Fade to gray
by ShadowsOnTheMoon
Summary: Miranda is stuck in limbo. What will it take to bring her back?
1. curious

**No idea where this came from. Spoilers for up to 1x03 I guess. Might write more if I feel like it or if people request it. Enjoy?**

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It wasn't his voice; it was her words.

There was a dim noise in my ears. I would have thought it was rushing blood, only I don't have any now. Something must have got screwed up, though, because I shouldn't have a consciousness either. Isn't that how dying is supposed to work? I thought it was supposed to be

heartstops

nervesdie

lastbreath

dead

not stuck here in limbo or whatever it is. There aren't angel choirs or pearly gates, but I can see lights. They're faint, silvery, and they disappear when I try to look directly at them. When I'm not looking, though, they creep in, converging, blending, until they're so bright I have to shut my eyes; and even then, when I can't see them, I can still sense them.

I can hear things too. Whispers, mutters, whatever you want to call them. I think they're spirits – like me. They're trapped here too. I can't see them, but they're there. Some of them seem lost, but others, the ones who sound like they've been here longer… they're not lost. They're looking.

I wasn't looking, but Caleb's voice found me. At first I could just feel it, a kind of tugging sensation, pulling me somewhere, but it wasn't clear enough to be able to follow. Then the words started to make sense, each word like a physical presence, something I was sure I could almost touch. I felt them, the force of them pulling me

inexplicably

inexorably

insensibly

towards _something_. So I followed, through something that was part tunnel and part bridge, feeling the waters of souls swirling around me, people I hadn't known when I was alive and had no desire to know now that they were dead. It was the weirdest experience of – well, my death – and I was grateful when I spun to a stop.

Caleb was sitting there, reading from my mother's note. And oh god, I don't know who was more surprised: him, because I was here, or me, because he could see me. He's the only one who can see me, from what I can tell. I don't know why. Maybe he's the only one who's open to it, or maybe it's because of me, because I'm somehow, subconsciously, shielding myself from everyone else.

Overlooked in life, invisible in death. Just my luck.

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	2. uncertain

**Hey there, Ravenswood fans. Thank you so, so much to everyone who was kind enough to leave a review last chapter. I really appreciate it - so much so that I was inspired to write another one. So here it is, and I hope you enjoy it! Please do let me know what you think.**

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Now that I'm dead, life seems so much brighter.

When I first came to Ravenswood, it made me shudder. Everything was so cold, so gray, even when the sun was shining, like it wasn't sure it was meant to be here. I know that feeling all too well. But here, wherever Here is, it's brighter, and I can see

lights on the edge of my vision

a shimmery haze in front of my eyes

glimmering shadows of other spirits

and it would be kind of beautiful, if I wasn't so terrified all the time. I can still see the darkness in Ravenswood, but it's tainted now; tainted with light. But it's the kind of light that makes it seem more sinister, like it's just a façade to stop us from looking too deep. I'm going to look, though. It's the least I can do for Caleb and the others, the ones who still have a chance.

The whispers have been getting louder, and sometimes I'm even able to make out a word or two, like

dead

curse

pact

the usual horror movie stuff. I should probably tell Caleb about it, but I'm not really sure how to bring it up. 'Hey, sorry to just drift through the walls and drop by like this, but I think you're in horrible danger'? That'll go down well.

I think something's going to happen soon, something big. There's a kind of restlessness around me, passing from one spirit to the next, and even though I haven't actually come into contact with any of them yet, it's passed to me anyway. It makes me uneasy, unsettled, and I've been wandering a lot.

I can't go beyond the graveyard gates, and meandering among the tombstones isn't exactly relaxing. But there's enough rooms in the house to explore, and there are a couple that other spirits won't even go into.

But no matter where I go, I know I can't escape whatever's coming.

And I know we're not ready for it.

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	3. bleak

**Hi all. Thanks for the reviews. She will interact with the others soon, I promise. Stay tuned. And if you feel like it, check out 'Talk to me', my other Ravenswood fic (a Miranda/Caleb one). See you guys next update, and don't forget to let me know what you think of this chapter.**

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It's somewhere between a shiver and a shudder.

That's what passes through me whenever Caleb says her name. I'd only met Hanna once, that night those Rosewood girls showed up in this godforsaken town. Whether by chance or design, that had been the day I was headed to Ravenswood too.

Hanna is the one who gave her blessing to Caleb. She told him to stay here with me, to make sure I was okay. I don't think he's told her I'm dead yet. To do so, he would have to tell her why he's still here, which would result in

questions

confessions

explanations

and the poor guy doesn't have all the answers yet. None of us do. We're all just feeling our way, which is a lot easier when you're not stuck in the spirit world. I think a couple of the others are envious – maybe that's the wrong word, but it's the closest thing I can think of. I've already lost it all, so they think I must be safe now. They don't know that I still have things worth living for; well, figuratively, anyway.

Caleb's been talking about going to see Hanna. He's been thinking about it for days, and one time he even picked up the phone to tell her he was on his way, but he slammed it down again before he even dialled the number. I don't want him to feel obligated to stay with me, but a little selfish part of me is grateful that he's made that choice without me having to say anything.

I know he's still in love with Hanna. You can see it all over his face. He tells me stories about her, sometimes, about their adventures in Rosewood and their first date and the camping trip they took. It's beautiful. Their love is the stuff of

romance novels

love songs

fairytales

and it would warm my heart if it hadn't stopped beating when I crossed over. I can still feel, of course, but there's a darker undercurrent, something drawing my attention away from the life I used to have and the things I used to think were important.

Everything's different now, and I still haven't figured out where I fit into it all.

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